Opalescence Read online

  The motel's water pressure was pretty terrible, but in the end it got the job done. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a threadbare towel around herself, staring down at her crumpled clothes with a frown. She'd left them in a little pile when getting into the shower, and now she had to admit they were pretty gross, all crusted with beach residue and smelling of salt. And the motel did have a laundry room. The only problem was that she didn't have any other clothes to change into.

  In the end she decided she really couldn't put the clothes back on as they were, so she wrapped an extra towel around her shoulders, tucked the offending garments under an arm, and grabbed her purse from where she'd thrown it.

  When she stepped outside, Faith realized she'd gotten lucky as far as weather went. The air was a balmy seventy degrees, a little chilly when wrapped only in towels and still dripping, but manageable. Had she gone on this adventure a week before, the temperature would have been in the fifties and she'd be shivering, and a week from now it'd probably drop down into the forties again. Texans jokingly called their state bipolar for a reason, and 'spring' was really only about of month of drastic temperature swings that would eventually settle into the oppressive heat of summer. Very, very lucky.

  She found the laundry room a few rooms down from her own, a semi-open little space cast in the dirty yellow of old lights. The floor was cracked concrete and, like with the building's sidewalk, she kept an eye out for broken glass or anything else she didn't really want touching her bare feet as she made her way to the washers. She may have gotten lucky with the weather but thank god it wasn't summer yet, even if she did love the heat; this place was probably sweltering when it got hot. No thank you to baking.

  Placing her clothes into one of the washers, she briefly abandoned them to buy a single use detergent from the buzzing, dented vending machine, and then returned to put coins into the washer. She could go back to her room, but these were literally the clothes off her back and she didn't want someone coming along and helping themselves, even if the place did seem abandoned. So she grabbed a plastic chair, once more cursed the fact that she didn't have her phone, and sat down to play the waiting game.

  Thirty minutes later she was putting her now slightly-cleaner clothes into a dryer when someone else finally came to use the laundry. If it weren't for the faint sounds of opening and closing doors and the hum of TVs and voices she really might have thought herself the only person there. Well, she could wish anyways.

  Politely, she ignored the man's presence, barely catching a glimpse of brown hair and wide shoulders out of the corner of her eye before she turned her attention to the dryer's confusing array of buttons. It took her a moment to figure it all out, and then she went back to her chair to wait some more.

  "What's a pretty little thing doing out here with no clothes on?" He was standing at one of the washers, hip propped against it.

  Faith flushed and only barely glanced at him before returning her gaze to the far, cracked wall. "I forgot to bring extras," she murmured, and tried not to flinch at his laugh.

  "Well that's silly." A brief moment of silence that got her hopes up, but he was just putting money into the machine before turning to her again. "Why didn't you just go buy more?"

  Because she hadn't wanted to wander around Walmart smelling and looking like a beach bum. It was bad enough she'd had to walk into the motel's office like that, and she was sure they saw people regularly in much worse states than hers. But she didn't bother saying that. She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and hoped that would ward him off. No such luck.

  "If you want, I could lend you something."

  Couldn't he just leave her alone? She was sure he was a nice guy and all, but strange men really weren't her forte. The disused laundry room setting wasn't really helping things either, not to mention the fact that she'd had a long, exhausting day. She just wanted clean clothes and to get some more sleep. Unsurprisingly, a nap on the beach hadn't done her many favors.

  "No thanks," she demurred, and was expecting the way he didn't seem to accept that. What was it with men?

  "Hey, no, it's okay! You can totally borrow some stuff from me," he continued, "it'll be fine. Just come back to my room and—"

  Unwilling to hear the rest, Faith stood and headed for the dryer with her clothes in it. They were still soaking wet when she pulled them out, only hot now instead of cold. Oh well, it was better than nothing. She could lay them over the air conditioner in her room and crank it up real high so they'd be wearable come morning. She'd freeze in the meantime, but the comforter looked plenty thick at least.

  "Hey!"

  She jumped and turned because the man was suddenly right there, boxing her in up against the dryers. This close she could smell his cologne and noticed for the first time the trim figure and the well-kept beard, but still she kept her head down. "Excuse me."

  "I was talking to you, you know," he said, and she hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller because now she could smell his breath too. "I was trying to be nice. Why won't you let me be nice?"

  "I really need to go now," she tried, hugging her sopping clothes close to her body.

  No such luck, he simply pushed closer. "I can be really nice," he murmured, voice dropping low and intimate in a way that sent decidedly unpleasant shivers up her spine. "C'mon, let me show you."

  And then he grabbed her. Not harshly or anything, but he put his hand on her arm and pulled and she just… blanked out for a moment. When she came to he was cussing up a storm halfway across the room, picking himself up off the concrete. There was a dent on the washing machine behind him, big, and roughly the shape of his body.

  Faith fled. She didn't know what else to do. She ran the whole way back to her room, not bothering to look for broken glass this time, and she wasted precious seconds fumbling with the key card trying to get in the door. Once inside she collapsed back against it, clothes lying forgotten at her feet while she tried to will herself to calm down. What the fuck had just happened?

  She hadn't… well, she had pushed him she was pretty sure. But not that hard right? There was a freaking dent in the washer, and sure it was old and already beaten up, but it was still made of metal!

  Oh shit, was she going to have pay for that?

  She groaned and knocked her head against the door a few times for good measure. What the fuck was up with this day? The longer it went on, the more unbelievable it got. Better to just end it as quickly as possible, she decided. Get it over with and out of the way before fairies or pirates or freaking fairy pirates descended to whisk her away.

  Gathering herself, Faith picked up her forgotten clothes and went to spread them out on the A/C unit. She set the fan on, turned the temperature down, then went to cocoon herself on the bed. She wasn't a huge fan of Texas' humid, muggy summers, but she'd take them over the freaking cold any day of the week. Give her heat and sun.

  When she woke up the next morning, it was to find she'd overslept a bit. Well, she was used to having her phone double as an alarm clock. Without it she'd been relying on waking up naturally. And naturally she'd slept until about ten-thirty. Damn, she'd missed the continental breakfast too. Nothing for it.

  Unfortunately, her clothes weren't completely dry either when she went to investigate them. Close to it, but stiff and chilled and just faintly damp, especially her jeans. They'd work for the day at least. She didn't have any plans except grabbing breakfast and going straight home again anyways.

  Rather fortunately, nobody said anything to her about the dented washing machine from the night before as she was checking out of the motel. Not that she'd honestly thought they'd had working cameras in the laundry—she'd be surprised if the cameras in the office actually worked, much less a rarely used side room—but the man from before could have tried to turn her in. Or something. The vague paranoia vanished as she turned over her key card and left without incident. At least something was going right. Maybe today would be a better day than the one before. She c
ould hope anyways.

  Thirty minutes later, Faith revised her statement that today was much better than the day before. Not only had nobody charged her with property damage, but she'd also found a Whataburger only a block away from the motel. They hadn't been serving breakfast anymore—a shame, she loved their honey chicken biscuits—but an early lunch was just as well. She munched happily on her sandwich as she pulled onto the feeder and then merged onto the highway back towards the mainland.

  It didn't take long for her realize she wasn't actually pointed in the right direction. Confused, she pulled over onto the shoulder and sat staring at several signs further down the highway.

  This was… it was the road she'd been on yesterday, when she'd woken from her panicked rush. The road that, after a few forks and turns, led to the mermaid's beach. What was she doing here? She needed to go home, needed to make sure her parents knew she was okay, needed to make up with them.

  The highway bent and curved before her, the roadway clear despite the fact that Galveston always had an overabundance of traffic. She was already halfway there, pretty much. Past all the turn offs and the highway to the mainland, past the tourist traps and residential areas.

  Maybe she wasn't ready to go back home. She needed to, but that didn't necessarily mean she wanted to. Another day couldn't hurt, could it? She could go and nap with the mermaid again. Really think things over. Did she even know what she was going to say to her parents yet? What they were going to say to her?

  Had she even begun to process what they'd told her, what had made her runaway in the first place?

  Faith put her blinker on and merged back onto the highway. One more day. One more day and then she'd go home. She probably won't even stay the entire day, she'd leave in the evening and be home a few hours after dark.

  She remembered every fork and turn to the beach with a clarity that was a little startling. She hadn't meant to go where she'd gone yesterday. She'd only been wandering. But she didn't question a single turn, and half an hour later found her in the same parking lot, climbing down the same dunes, leaving her shoes in the same sand.

  This time when she came around the curve in the beach, she was expecting the flash of gold and red. Only the mermaid wasn't flailing around trying to fight off errant seaweed this time. They were laid a little further up the sand today, long marks evidence of where they'd dragged themselves out of the water. When Faith approached they blinked red-brown eyes open sleepily, squinting up at her from under their arm.

  "You came back," they said, sitting up as Faith sat down in the sand next to them.

  She shrugged. "I wasn't ready to go home yet."

  That earned her a snort and a curl of the mermaid's lips. "Yeah? You and me both. What're you doing here, though?"

  It was a good question, really. Why had she come back? She hated the beach, openly admitted that to herself and anyone else who successfully dragged her there. But she hadn't come for the beach, had she? She'd come for the escape and surrealism of it all. She'd come for them, the mermaid.

  Faith stuck out her hand, her smile small but genuine. "I don't think I ever introduced myself. Hi, I'm Faith."

  For a moment the mermaid stared at her hand before gently taking it in their own and shaking. Their skin was cool and still slightly damp, though they had to have been out of the water for a while now, and their fingers were each tipped with a long, curved claw. Amusingly, they took Faith's hand like they were either scared of hurting her or worried they would catch something from her. Faith couldn't figure out which was funnier.

  "You can call me Seibal. My real name's kind of impossible to pronounce out of the water," they said.

  That had Faith laughing a little as she dropped their hand. "Did you come up with that on the spot or do you like, have a name for being on land versus in the water?"

  Seibal shrugged their shoulders. "It's kind of," they flapped their hand a little before finishing with a smile, "It's the closest thing my name translates to in English, if that makes sense."

  "Mermaids have their own language," Faith mused. "Who knew."

  With a laugh of their own, Seibal knocked their shoulder into hers, their weight cool and heavy against her side for that brief, wonderful moment. "There's lots you humans don't know about mermaids."

  There was that damn word again. Human. Faith tried to hide her grimace and focus on the more interesting merits of that statement. "Why is that?" she asked. "That you seem to know so much about us, but everyone thinks mermaids are just a myth."

  "Wi-Fi."

  Simple, straightforward. Seibal's attention wasn't even on her when they said it. They were staring out at the water again. Faith opened her mouth, closed it, tried to figure that one out. Wi-Fi? What the hell did that even mean?

  "Wi-Fi," she echoed incredulously, but Seibal just nodded without responding.

  "You know," they said a heartbeat later, turning back to her and effectively cutting off Faith's attempt to dig for more information. "Speaking of humans, you don't really smell like one."

  Faith froze. Her heart tripped over itself and then started beating a guilty-quick rhythm in her chest. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice more wobbly than she'd intended. Shit, she hadn't been found out already had she?

  Seibal seemed to consider the question for a moment, but if they noticed Faith's sudden discomfort, they didn't acknowledge it. Finally they shrugged. "Like smoke," they said, waving one hand errantly. "In the water humans smell very earth like, all dirt and metal and concrete. But not you. You smell like smoke, like fire." As if drawn to that scent they swayed forward, eyes shuttering closed as they breathed deep. They were incredibly close, their face practically nestled into the crook where Faith's shoulder met her neck. She held as still as she could, her heart racing for an entirely different reason now, and tried not to lean into the mermaid.

  Finally, after what could have been years but was probably only seconds, Seibal moved away again. "Definitely like smoke," they said with a grin. Faith blew out an unconsciously-held breath, and tried desperately to change the conversation.

  It was awkward, but it worked, and Seibal was happy enough to discuss the different seas they'd visited, Faith dragged awkwardly along in their wake.

  Part Three

  "Wait, so this is your first time being on land?"

  Seibal nodded. In the setting sun, their eyes glowed feral-cat amber and the scales of their tail were iridescent and shimmering. Like an angel, a dream, a goddamn fantasy come to life, all warm and golden and red. Faith had been ignoring Seibal's beauty all day long but the stupid sun making them look even more amazing was going to have Faith staring like an idiot and drooling soon.

  She shook away the distracting thoughts as best she could and bumped her shoulder into Seibal's. "You should have told me!" she reprimanded. "Not like I could have thrown you a party or anything, but this is still a pretty big occasion! Right? Mermaids don't come on land very often?"

  "They don't," Seibal confirmed, and rather than moving away from Faith they swayed their weight into her, so that they were leaning against each other. "Actually, we really aren't supposed to come on land at all. It's pretty taboo and you're considered a traitor if you do it."

  Faith winced a little. "Uh, not exactly a party occasion then," she said, desperately trying not to focus on how good Seibal felt against her shoulder and side. Serious, it was a serious conversation. "So why'd you do it, if it's so terrible?"

  The weight against her shuddered and increased a little, Seibal leaning closer incrementally, their gaze fixed downward. "I couldn't stay."

  After a brief moment of hesitation, Faith followed her instinct and wrapped an arm around Seibal's broad but delicate shoulders. That seemed to describe them perfectly, really. Broad but delicate. They were big, taller than Faith when sitting, and their tail had to be at least six feet on its own, thick and powerful looking even when out of place in the sand. Sharp, predator teeth filled their mouth, each of their fingers tipped wit
h a deadly claw, and they shook hands like they didn't want to hurt the other party. And while they were a bit pudgy around the middle, the strength in their core, their arms, those broad shoulders, was obvious.

  And yet.

  There was so much about them that was delicate. Their tentative smile, the way they laughed, even the soft, warm quality of their voice seemed strangely fragile. And apparently they were on the run, with the strength necessary to do something completely forbidden to them, but with enough weakness they would lean against a stranger in search of comfort.

  Faith breathed out shakily and sank her fingers into that thick hair, petting it back from Seibal's face gently. "You don't have to tell me but… what happened?"

  It took a moment of quiet contemplation and reluctance, the ocean a steady, droning presence. But eventually Seibal did tell her: they spun a sordid tale of a people too proud to change their ways, but dying out because they refused to do anything about it. And caught in the middle of it all, a young royal, not particularly important in the grand hierarchy but with enough title to garner occasional attention, sentenced to the life of a brood mother in a last ditch effort to save the species.

  "If only we could talk to the humans, to tell them to stop poisoning the water and taking our food," Seibal said, just enough dejection in their voice for Faith to know this was an old argument, one they'd never won, "but no. Nobody wanted to listen to me. Humans aren't evil, they said, just conceited. As soon as they know we exist they'll just want to take advantage. That, or hunt us down." They laughed a little, voice sticky with tears barely shed.

  "You know," they went on, turning to look up at Faith from where they'd put their head on her shoulder. Looking down at them she realized it really was too close, her stomach quivering, heart thumping as Seibal confessed quietly, "I thought I was done for when you snuck up on me. Here we go, I thought. I wanted to tell the humans and now I'm going to be killed by one. The old coots will never change their minds now."